


fox in the snow

by Gaearnith



Series: Assassin's Creed || One Shots, Reader Inserts [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood, Character Death, Drabble, F/M, mild symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 14:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16812196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaearnith/pseuds/Gaearnith
Summary: You don’t want to open your eyes, you don’t want to look at him, you don’t want to listen to him.





	fox in the snow

**Author's Note:**

> [title is susceptible to change]
> 
> i wrote this on a whim and did little to no editing, so apologies for any mistakes. it's my first time trying my hand at an assassin's creed character, so feedback is appreciated. 
> 
> this has been done a hundred times but honestly, this is just a fun scenario to think about since it can be done in so many different ways.

For the first time in a long time, it snows in New York. 

The city’s residents crowd the streets, all wearing different expressions as white flakes descend and adhere to their winter clothing. Some people push past you in their quest to get home, the thought of the crackling flames on the hearth too inviting to deny. Others linger by the white-capped buildings bordering the streets, bemoaning the weather or sharing a laugh. 

All of it would have been a lovely sight to marvel at. It would have been something out of a dream. 

But you were not here to admire it. You never were. 

Weaving through one alley, then another, you chance a glance upwards. He’s fast, _too fast_ , and you sincerely doubt you’ll escape him this time. The rumoured hunter leaps from one rooftop to another, legs eating up the distance separating you two easily. 

_Run_ , your mind howls at you, **_run_** _._

One particularly harsh turn pushes you to brace your hands against a wall, the cold seeping through your gloves. Your hood falls, revealing your face, but you don’t stop to fix it. Faceless or not, he will not show mercy to your kind. He’s already proven that, to him, you're nothing but prey.

A shadow blocks the light momentarily as you change course. Despite the distance your maneuver created, he is still closing in.

_Run, run, **run** **** **.**_

Snowflakes cling to your lashes and cheeks, though try as you might, you can’t seem to blink them away. You wipe a hand over your face, feeling the dryness of your skin underneath your fingertips. The only part of your face that isn’t frozen is your left cheek, covered in blood, still warm. Your side exudes the same heat, where a nasty wound resides and reminds you of its presence relentlessly. 

“ _Out of the way!_ ” You howl at an unsuspecting civilian, making another blind turn into yet another alley. The path ahead is blocked, putting an abrupt end to the chase. 

Cursing your luck – or your lack thereof, you skid to a halt, sending snow and gravel flying in several directions. You barely take notice of the sound of him landing at the entrance of the alley. Your heart pounds heavily in your ears and you can hear ringing in the back of your head. 

_Don’t turn around._

Footsteps head in your direction, and despite the searing pain in your legs, you begin the awkward climb to safety. The assassin hunter grunts and pants just as aggressively as you while making a move to follow. _At least we’re both suffering_ , you think humourlessly. 

You make it over the ledge, wheezing, and frantically continue running. If you could just _lose_ him, if you could just _make it_ , it would all _end_. You’d be _free_. 

But he does not give up. 

The snow and ice that’s beginning to form throw you off balance time after time. Your fingers are so frozen you doubt you’ll be able to fight him off when he does ensnare you. At one point, your foot catches on a ledge and you topple, your body too exhausted to correct your mistake. 

The breath escapes your lungs when you hit the unforgiving ground. You struggle for air in the moments it takes for him to appear in front of you. Rising to lean on an elbow, you watch him approach steadily out of the corner of your eye. His hidden blade glints menacingly as it is engaged. 

A foot collides with your shoulder, forcing you on your back, and you hiss at the pain. 

You thought he would act as soon as you foolishly exposed your throat. Instead, you’re gifted with a whisper of your name riddled with disbelief. 

Your eyes meet, and despite your training, you can’t help the tears. 

“Shay,” You return weakly, nodding curtly at the man looming over your recumbent form. You’re both heaving from the exertion, chests rising rhythmically. You fight for purchase on the ground, freezing. The cold has invaded your body and you’re beginning to succumb to its embrace. Teeth chattering, you look on as Shay kneels beside you.

“Why you?” He wonders out loud, but it’s not directed at you. You sit up slightly, trembling, and stare into the black pools that are his eyes. “Of all people, why _you_?” 

His features are schooled into an expression of what you assume is rage, but his voice is full of grief. It does nothing to help the storm of emotion inside you. 

( _If things had been different, you would’ve made a cheeky remark on his new appearance. The words sit on your tongue, and your throat itches with the need to voice them. You never do.)_

You inch backwards, glaring with whatever energy you have left, and gasp when pain flares in your back. Shay reaches for you, but you bat his hands away, breathing hard. 

With nothing else to say, you snarl, “ _Traitor_.” 

Blood pools at your side and you shakily press your hands to it, trying to staunch the flow. Unshed tears blur your vision as the pain branches out to the rest of your body, the adrenaline fading at an unprecedented pace. 

Your mentor’s voice crowds your mind, scolding and harsh. 

Truly, Shay should’ve killed you a long time ago. The fact you’ve eluded him up to now still baffles you to this day, considering your tendency to _panic_. 

It’s how he’d located you. Sensing your gaze, his eyes swept the streets and eventually landed on you. You noticed the shuffling of his feet, the slight bending of his knees as he readied himself, and struck. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

After a brief skirmish, with citizens gasping and screaming at the sight, you ran. He’d aimed his hidden blade at your abdomen ruthlessly, but you’d dodged. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough, and now here you were; dying in front of your closest friend, because even after everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him. 

“It didn’t have to be this way.” He says, reaching for you again and pressing his hands to your wound. You choke back a pained noise, resting your head on the ground again. 

“No, it didn’t.” You agree, letting him do what he wishes. You’re on the brink of death, anyway. It was only a matter of waiting now. “But you betrayed–” 

You’re interrupted by your own coughing. It’s loud and irritating and you can barely contain it. _Stupid_. Vaguely, you note how Shay breathes your name again. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and lifts your torso off the ground. The chill grows worse as your rest your cheek on his chest, breath leaving your lungs at a slower rate now. 

“Hold on,” Shay says your name a third time, desperate. “We’ll get you patched up. Don’t-! Don’t you close your eyes!” A fourth, though it’s quieter, almost like you’re underwater and he’s far above the surface. He jostles you roughly, and your eyes fly open, blinking rapidly.

Shay carries on, voicing demands and ordering you to keep your eyes open. You try, but the fight is leaving you and your heartbeat is no longer deafening. You grip his shoulder, tears streaming down your face in rivulets.

Blearily, you think back to when you were both training and focused on the same goal. You think back to the nights spent outside in the woods, trying to one-up the other. You could never really beat Shay, not with that absurd gift that let him see you no matter your hiding spot.

( _“You know I’ll get you eventually, right?” You pointed at him. Both of you were covered in dirt from the scuffle that followed your attempt at tackling him._

_“I’m sure you will,” He says, pride oozing off him. Shay smirks far too smugly for your liking. You charge at him, intent on trying again but failing miserably._

_“Lucky,” You hiss, “You got lucky.”_

_“I make my–”_

_“I swear to God, Shay, if you say that one more time I’ll shank you.”_

_Shay laughed merrily like the free soul he is, and you can't help but join him.)_

You remember the nights spent around a campfire, seated across from each other, so close yet seemingly so far. The missions you’d completed together, with Liam to watch you both, protecting one another when the situation called for it.

In the end, he’d been the one you needed protection from.

Shay is still calling your name as he runs. He shakes you when your eyes betray you and slip shut, but you become more and more unresponsive as the minutes drag on. You fix your gaze on the sky, the cold unbearable at this point. Despite it all, you’re not afraid, too entranced with the memories floating into view.

You close your eyes against the breeze, the snow, the painful lurching of your heart, ignoring Shay’s pleas. The man always managed to irritate you somehow.

Bitterly, you huff and shake your head, the hand you’d placed on his shoulder going slack.

In your heart, you knew there had been room for more than just the fleeting glances across campfires and coy smiles. He knew that, too. It’s what made dying all the more agonizing.

Shay yells your name one last time before you finally stop listening, shaking your head a second time. You don’t want to open your eyes, you don’t want to look at him, you don’t want to listen to him.

And so you don’t.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


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